Russian Roulette /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿
CHAPTER 16
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in a tiresomely familiar setting. White sheets and curtains. The distinct scent tickling her nose… There had been a time when she had come and gone from hospital rooms as if they were her second home. So, it no longer surprised Tessa when she was moved to the infirmary after losing consciousness.
What did surprise her, however, was always something else. Like the towering man standing beside her, glaring down with an unwavering stare.
She had been working under him for years now, yet every time she saw his face, she instinctively held her breath in tension. Beneath his finely drawn eyebrows, an icy emptiness fixated on her.
No—upon closer inspection, it was no longer emptiness. Tessa could read the emotions seeping into Vicente’s gaze. He was displeased. Beneath his irritation, there was a trace of anger.
With his hands shoved into his pockets, he said nothing.
Tessa quickly noticed a few other things that were unlike his usual self.
Vicente’s hair was disheveled. Small cuts were scattered across his face, reminding her of the events that had unfolded just before she lost consciousness.
“…Are the civilians safe?”
At her question, Vicente let out a scoffing laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“The first thing you ask after waking up… and that’s all you’ve got?”
“It’s important to me.”
“A saint, aren’t you?”
His voice was laced with mockery. Meanwhile, Tessa found herself wondering—why was Vicente angry? He was a man as cold as ice. It was rare for him to heat up. If anything, his lack of emotion made him even more dangerous. Vicente only ever considered order and profit, and those who disrupted them were inevitably erased.
The concept of clinging onto someone did not exist for Vicente Zermo.
Neither did the concept of exceptions in his world.
And yet, Vicente had made an exception for Tessa. And now, he was furious with her.
“…I’m sorry.”
Having realized the reason behind his irritation, Tessa apologized without resistance.
“It’s because I didn’t follow orders…”
“Are you stupid, or do you deliberately go out of your way to do the most reckless things?”
“…What?”
Vicente yanked the blanket away. The sudden chill made Tessa instinctively curl in on herself, but he paid no mind and lifted the hem of her hospital gown. The gunshot wound on her abdomen was still in the process of healing. Scattered around it were smaller cuts—shrapnel wounds from the grenade.
His gaze, which had been fixated on the bandaged stomach, slowly shifted upward.
“I go out of my way to make sure you can move comfortably, and now you’re collapsing over some random civilian woman.”
“Then what was I supposed to do?”
“Tessa.” His voice was calm, almost casual.
“Your head is filled with revolting, parasite-like ideals. They control you, manipulate you, and in the end, they’ll be the death of you.”
He pressed a finger against her forehead, pushing slightly.
Tessa wasn’t just unable to understand him—she was angry. What do you even know about me to say something like that?
But before she could form a response, Vicente spoke again.
“No matter how you try to escape from me, it’s useless. Even death belongs to me when it comes to you. You won’t get out—ever—unless I allow it. And throwing your life away for some noble sense of responsibility? Absolutely not.”
The remnants of his anger cooled. Now that he had confirmed that she was still alive, still within his grasp, Vicente had regained his composure.
“You’ve tried before, haven’t you? Blowing your own head off with a gun.”
Tessa fell silent.
“But you failed. Do you really think that was a coincidence?”
Back when she was shot, the last pistol she had left was out of bullets. That’s what she had believed. But… could it be?
“…Was it you?”
“Go ahead. Keep finding excuses, justifications. Keep throwing yourself away like you’re disposable. But as long as you remain within my sight, you will never die.”
He made it sound like her attempt to save Dina—getting caught in that explosion—was nothing more than another suicide attempt. He had misunderstood. She hadn’t intended to die.
She had just wanted to save a civilian…
“Yeah, you shouldn’t die so easily.”
Vicente, perched at the edge of the hospital bed, lit a cigarette. The flint of the lighter sparked, clicking twice before a warm glow flickered to life.
“You don’t understand what you mean to me.”
He exhaled slowly, and the acrid smoke dissolved into the air like an illusion. Tessa stared at him, dumbfounded by his cryptic words.
“…I had no idea I held any meaning for you, Mr. Zermo. That’s surprising.”
There was a limit to how much mockery one could get away with. Tessa knew she was pushing it, but she went ahead and ridiculed his words anyway—ridiculed herself. If it earned her a hit, so be it.
A disposable tool. That’s all she had ever been. Vicente wasn’t wrong about that. Her life had never been anything more than replaceable. She was deployed on dangerous missions, and if she died, someone else would take her place. That was the life she knew.
But did Vicente, of all people, have the right to lecture her on that? The man who treated his subordinates like tools, who had them handle all the dirty work, who sent them to die as if they were nothing?
Tessa was just another one of his ‘dogs.’
And now, he dared to attach the word meaning to her?
It didn’t make sense.
“If you were no different from the others, you wouldn’t even be alive right now.”
“What possible reason could there be for me to be special to you?”
“You’re a far more powerful card than you realize.”
As if he had already grown bored of the conversation, Vicente ground out his cigarette under his boot.
“I’m nothing special. I’m just a C-rank Sentinel…”
“I know.”
“There are plenty like me, both in the Intelligence Bureau and around you. I’ve asked you before—why does someone as painfully ordinary as me have to be special to you?”
Why had he kept her alive, even after discovering she was a spy for the Intelligence Bureau?
Why had he not only spared her but continued to show her favor?
Why had he allowed her to guide him?
Why had Vicente made an exception for her?
“You are anything but ordinary, Tessa.”
“…”
“The moment you were thrown into Saint Leroi, you left ‘ordinary’ far behind.”
“What does that—”
“For acting on your own, you’re under house arrest. Once we return, you won’t get so much as a breath of fresh air.”
Without so much as laying a hand on her, Vicente turned and walked out of the hospital room. His surviving subordinates were waiting for him in the hallway.
“Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t try anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leaving them stationed outside, Vicente headed up the stairwell alone, making his way to the rooftop. Unlocking the door was no trouble for him.
As he stepped onto the empty rooftop, his gaze fell upon a familiar structure in the distance.
The headquarters of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau—the den of the bastards who had planted spies like Tessa in his city.
It had been years since he had last set foot in that godforsaken place. He rarely ventured into the capital these days.
But no matter how much time had passed, he still remembered the way to that grim building perfectly.
* * *
Upon hearing that a Sentinel was slated for disposal, Vicente made a rare trip to the capital.
And it was his fault that the Sentinel was facing execution.
The Intelligence Bureau had tried to keep the Sentinel’s existence a secret, but Vicente’s eyes and ears were everywhere. The Bureau wasn’t the only entity capable of planting spies.
“Mr. Reed. Since it’s going to be discarded anyway, would you mind showing me one last personnel file?”
He made his request while leisurely sipping tea inside an interrogation room, designed to resemble an ordinary office. He was fully aware of the agents on the other side of the glass, watching him like hawks.
“You broke into this place… for that?”
“That Sentinel would have been furious if they ever found out about the things you people have done. And now that I know I had a hand in their demise, I can’t exactly sit still, can I?”
“It’s going to be executed anyway. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Which is why I want to at least know what kind of ‘dog’ you’re sending to the slaughterhouse before it happens.”
Alex Reed eyed him with suspicion but eventually handed over the file.
Tessa Ambrose.
A loyal military hound—righteous, almost stupidly pure, unwavering in her sense of duty. And yet, they were planning to dispose of such a valuable asset simply because of her association with him.
He couldn’t help but laugh.
These bastards hadn’t changed one bit.
“Are you afraid she might turn against you if she finds out I’m her rightful Guide?”
“You know how we operate.”
“Too well, in fact. We’re not so different, you and I.”
Across from him, Alex’s expression twisted in disgust. Vicente watched him, unfazed, before speaking again.
“Are you really going to kill her?”
“The fact that you’re interested tells me we made the right call.”
“Tessa. That was her name, wasn’t it?”
Leaning forward, Vicente laced his fingers together atop the desk.
“Why don’t you hand her over to me instead?”
“…What?”
“In exchange, let’s play a little game.”
A wager, set over the life of an agent he had never met before.
